So Low Only You Can Hear
by Mind of the Childishly Naive
Summary: Her skin is red and tender from the hand that grips the back of her thigh.


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So Low Only You Can Hear

-x-

Her skin is red and tender from the hand that grips the back of her thigh.

She has crossed this bar twice already, once to retrieve Luffy's hat - knocked thoughtlessly astray by the jackass sitting at the table under the chandelier - and once, before that, to check the weather. She's waiting on it to change for the worst, but this island isn't sure what it wants to do so the clouds are dark and roiling suspiciously one moment and light and white the next. She can see and feel the air moving in the atmosphere above, though there isn't the faintest hint of wind below. These little things don't fool her for a second; she knows a storm is coming and she intends to catch it before it can decide, for sure, that it is.

In the meantime three of her idiots - the captain, the cannoneer, and the tiny doctor - are enjoying their late lunch without a care in the world. They're laughing and shouting, and banging on the bar, delightfully oblivious to the catcalls and lewd, not-at-all-subtle remarks she's gotten from the rest of the room at large. Nami assumes the bizarrely hormonal atmosphere is due to a combination of the skirt she wore today, the overflow of beer, and months and months of lonely men at sea, and she ignores the commentators and their rude (but also very thoughtful) jibes. She smiles at Luffy when he talks to her, and laughs at Usopp's jokes, and slides her unwanted desert to Chopper before Luffy can see that she's finished and hork it down.

Eventually, the window darkens for longer than a brief moment - a cloud isn't just passing over the afternoon sun, the weather has settled, decided, and she knows the moment she steps outside that it will be eight degrees cooler, with a heavy northward wind. They have twenty minutes.

Nami pushes up from the bar and slides off her stool, elbowing Luffy.

He turns to acknowledge her, cramming a triple-stacked meat-and-meat-and-maybe-some-cheese sandwich into his mouth with both hands, and makes a questioning noise around the thick set of bread and meat (and the potential cheese).

"A storm's coming," she says, "We should head back to the ship."

His eyebrows knot and he mumbles something, chewing at the same time.

Nami rolls her eyes.

_"Yes_, you can finish, just make it quick, alright?"

Luffy chuckles and bobs his head in assent, redoubling his efforts to eat everything in front of him - Chopper worries that he might choke on a plate or utensil - Usopp laughs and tries to finish his own meal before Luffy's questing hands whisk it away - and Nami heads for the door to feel the weather out for herself.

She's halfway across the bar, under the chandelier, when a rough hand catches her by the wrist and turns her around to face the table where the jackass is sitting smugly among his comrades. He grins - this does nothing to win her over because he's missing a tooth, unshaven, and he reeks of beer.

(That's something Zoro can boast about, at least - beer is his beverage of choice, but he doesn't smell like he's crawled fresh out of the barrel.)

"Tired of hangin' out with those obnoxious brats, are we?" the jackass inquires, raising an eyebrow, "A pretty broad like you could do with some real men for company. How 'bout it?"

He yanks on her wrist and Nami takes an involuntary step toward him under the momentum. He laughs, and the men with him laugh. Nami pulls her wrist out from between his thick, calloused fingers and plants her newly freed hand on her hip. She straightens her shoulders and shifts her weight, making sure that every feminine curve she has is showing, and that he sees them, and she smiles her most obliging smile.

"The only real men _I _see," she says, so sweetly, "Are right _there."_

And she points with two fingers and her thumb to the bar, where Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper are sitting.

Of course, Luffy has just tried to swallow a platter whole, so the illusion is ruined as his face turns blue and he flails his arms, and Chopper cries for a doctor, and Usopp grabs him by the neck and valiantly tries to wrest the platter from his throat. Nami doesn't let her confidence slip, not once, and she turns away with a swing of her hips, smiling broadly and raising a shoulder at the jackass when his face sours and he scowls at her and at the trio.

She hears his comrades laughing and heckling him over the failure (they're probably too drunk to realize the comment was directed to all of them) as she pulls open the bar door, letting in a burst of cool air from outside. The sudden prospect of rain has cleared the streets, and the sky looks just as she expects it to: overcast with dark, swift clouds. Nami peeks out from under the eave, standing in the short recess of the wall where the bar door is, looking from horizon to horizon.

Maybe only fifteen minutes.

Behind her, she hears the door open, the noise inside roaring for an instant before it claps shut, and turns to see if it's one of the other Strawhats. The smell of beer practically smothers her and then there are those rough fingers sliding under her skirt, digging into her skin. The unwanted sensation sends a chill up Nami's spine and she twists around and wrenches away as the jackass grabs her by the arm with his other hand.

"Ex_cuse_ you!" she says, and lays all her weight on her heel, and her heel on his foot.

The man yowls in pain and lets her go - but only for an instant.

He swings his arm with no coordination (this doesn't surprise her, considering the stench), but Nami's back bumps into the bar's foyer wall as she retreats and the blow catches her right across the face. She shouts, her hand flying to her cheek; that same hand is yanked aside and held tightly as he presses her against the wall, blocking her view of the world. His breath is hot against her face and all she can see is his ugly, unshaved jaw and that missing tooth - and all she can smell is the heavy perfume of fermented malt and hops. Nami grimaces, turning her face away, and tries to struggle free. She feels those fingers tugging at her skirt again, dragging at her legs, and hears a seam splitting.

Her first instinct is to kick him, right where it hurts - retribution for the skirt, because it was 4,274฿, damnit! His knees pressing firmly between hers make this effort pointless. The rough fabric of his trousers scrapes against the inside of her thigh, and Nami balls her other hand into a fist and rears back, ready to punch him in the neck.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get the chance to do that, either.

A hand grabs the man by the collar of his jacket and yanks him backwards - and the rest of the world abruptly returns. The air is clear and cool; like rain and salt water. The bar door is open and she sees Usopp pulling it closed, making sure the latch catches. He ducks aside and out of the way as Luffy turns and heaves and slings the man through the thick oak door, splintering the wood - he flies the entire length of the bar and crashes through the counter, and the shelf behind that, and the storage room behind that.

The building behind the bar.

And the building behind that.

And the building behind that...

The rambunctious bar is suddenly, eerily silent as the wood chips and broken bottles settle, clattering against the floor. Flabbergasted people start appearing in the gapping archways, wondering what's happened, why their dinners have been disturbed by this smelly, flying man - and Luffy stands in the broken door of the bar, scowling, his fists clenched, waiting to see if the guy is going to get up. He doesn't (or _he can't_), so Luffy looks at the bar owner, who is staring like the rest and holding his only remaining tankard, and says, "Sorry about your door, old guy."

The bar owner flinches and stutters, dropping his tankard.

Luffy turns to look at Nami, then, still scowling as he walks over to her. He's looking at her legs, and her arms, and how her skirt is stretched and torn, but he doesn't say anything to her. Chopper does, looking up at her with wide eyes and knotted eyebrows.

He looks almost as angry as Luffy.

"Nami, that guy didn't hurt you, did he?"

Nami pushes herself away from the wall, realizing belatedly that her heart is hammering in her chest, and her hands are shaking. She flashes them a smile, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine," and arches an eyebrow at Luffy when he takes her arm and turns it over, exposing fresh red tracks in her skin. She pulls her arm out of his hand; his grip is light and he lets her go without resistance, but he leans to one side to look at the back of her legs, next. "Appalled by the lack of _manners_ in this place, but fine."

"Y'sure?" Usopp asks, his arms crossed as he frowns into the bar.

(The jackass' friends aren't sure of whether they should go help him, or remain seated, and Usopp's surprisingly intimidating stare has them nailed to their chairs. They mumble to each other and fiddle with their cards and beers, and none of them look at the mangled hole in the bar, or at the pirates.)

"I swear," Nami says, with increasing irritation, and bats at Luffy's hands when he tugs up the back of her skirt, "Luffy, what are you _doing?"_

"Looking."

"Not following the _look don't touch_ rule is what got _that _guy thrown through a - "

"Your legs are bruising."

"Well, he wasn't exactly _gentle_ when he grabbed me."

"I should've thrown him harder, then," Luffy decides, and starts to step back into the bar.

Several dozen chair legs scrape as their occupants scramble to get out of his path. Nami, however, grabs the back of his vest and steers him out toward the street, sighing, "I appreciate the chivalry, really, but didn't I tell you there was a storm coming and we should get back to the ship? What if Sanji and Robin aren't back yet? You can't expect Zoro to secure everything by himself, he'll have drown in his sleep by the time we get there!"

Luffy frowns, though not as intensely as before.

"Well, you guys go on and I'll stay and kick that guy's ass."

"That isn't necessary, I promise, I think you paid him back plenty."

"Don't you at least wanna take his money?" This question comes from Usopp, and it genuinely surprises Nami. She pauses, looking at him curiously, and Usopp explains, pointing to her skirt, "I mean, he ruined your clothes, didn't he? Aren't you gonna charge him like five hundred times the price you paid for it? That seems like a fair enough apology."

"My interest price is _three hundred_, thank you," Nami says, and smiles, "But that isn't a bad idea."

"We'll get it for you, Nami," Chopper offers, and the tiny reindeer disappears into the bar with Usopp on his heels.

No one stops them.

Luffy waits with Nami (at her command, of course, because if he had it his way he would throw that jerk again and probably break his hands), standing under the eave of the bar as the noise tentatively resumes. Overhead, the patter of rain starts, growing into a steady torrent that is lashed by the wind, and then the distant rumble of thunder rolls towards them, amplified by the vastness of the ocean. Wide puddles form in the streets within moments, and Nami sighs, looking out at it. The trek back to the docks is going to be hell, and she glares over at Luffy, because he's still staring at her with that deep frown on his face and it's really annoying.

"What, Luffy?"

"We should have left sooner."

"Yeah, well, we didn't," Nami says, raising her shoulders with grudging resignation, "And now we've got a long walk back in the rain. I hope you're happy. _You're _made of rubber, you don't have to worry about getting struck by lightening, but the _rest_ of us mortals - "

"Not because of that..."

"What?"

"I mean... I was too busy eating to listen to you when you said we should go," he mutters, his fists clenched at his sides as he looks at the red marks welling up and the bruises slowly forming on the back of her thigh, and on her arms, and the corner of her jaw where that jackass hit her. Luffy starts to move his hand, then decides against it in the same second - so his fist just jerks toward her and then back to his hip. He looks away. "And then that guy..."

"That guy was _drunk,"_ Nami says, frowning and jabbing her finger into Luffy's chest, "And probably not all that smart to begin with. He would have gotten thrown through the building no matter when we decided to leave, so you'd better not be stupid and say what I think you're going to say."

"I should listen to you more..."

"I'm used to you not listening to me. Look, Luffy, it's not a big deal -"

"It _is_ a big deal!"

"No, it's _not_, you idiot, just because some dumbass got a little frisky and _grabbed _me - "

"You keep saying it like that when _you know it isn't like that, Nami!"_ Luffy says angrily, in that rough undertone that is so nearly a growl it startles her. His head is ducked and turned so that the rim of his hat is hiding most of his face from view; she can only see the corner of his mouth, and she watches as he clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together, every muscle in his body tense and shaking. "I'm not stupid... I know what that guy tried to do to you..."

That, at least, explains why he's _so angry_, and the statement dawns on Nami slowly. She doesn't know why she's surprised, but she is - this from the man who doesn't differentiate between girls and boys on such a dramatic level that she sometimes wonders if he even _knows _there _is_ a difference. She takes his arm, her fingers loose around his elbow, and he is wound so tightly that he shudders at the contact and almost starts to jerk his arm away.

Nami tightens her grip.

"Look at me," she says, quiet and exasperated, "_At me, Luffy."_ She repeats it, firmly, because he twitches the first time she says it, but doesn't move. After a brief second, he turns his head toward her, and his eyes go to her cheek, first, where she can feel it throbbing and starting to swell, and then up to her eyes. "Do I look upset to you?"

He hesitates, glancing from one eye to the other, as if they were each going to say something the other wouldn't.

"No..."

"Do you know _why_ I'm not upset about it?"

_"No."_

Nami frowns at him, her eyes boring into his, and Luffy's brow knots. He holds her gaze for a short second before he looks away again, his eyes darting quickly from the left to the right, looking at nothing in particular, and Nami watches him and waits. It's impossible to talk to him when he's angry, it's impossible to explain things when he is so bent on _doing_ and not _listening_ - so she waits, letting the drum of rain against the rooftop and the cool air calm him down because nothing she can say is going to.

It only takes a few seconds.

The muscles in his arm bunch and quiver as he clenches his fists one final time, and then he lets go; Nami slides her hand down his arm, her fingers lightly grazing his skin, then her fingers into the palm of his loose hand. She presses her fingers between his, and lays her forehead against his shoulder, smiling, even though he can't see it and he still isn't looking at her. She knows he can hear it in her tone, when she says, "Because that guy never stood a chance, you idiot," and she knows it's the most reassuring sound in the world to him.

Luffy squeezes her fingers, so tightly it hurts.

It's the part that she doesn't say out loud that really eases his mind.

_I know I've got nothing to worry about as long as I'm with you._

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(A/n) When you can't update your drabble set because you don't know how to stfu and not drag random things out. OTL I wanted Luffy to get mad and throw someone across a bar and then I got a little winded and lost my train of thought and hopefully it isn't too awful or random. Word-a-day prompt was SKIN; reviews are appreciated!

-Motcn


End file.
